Colorless Fixation
by anyadoll
Summary: just a continuation of where we left off with Crimson Hat, more or less the ponderings of Lisbon and Jane


A/N: I don't own Mentalist obviously, and I have to say it was a spectacular finale. So here is my take of kind of a post finale observance. Mind you it's been awhile since I've written [apologies, its been a rough year] and I feel awful that my Criminal Minds story remains unfinished, but I lost the inspiration on it. So in turn, here is my newest story.

**Colorless Fixation**

_I guess you really did it this time_

_Left yourself in your warpath_

_Lost your balance on a tightrope_

_Lost your mind tryin' to get it back…_

He didn't often dwell on his love life. He didn't have much of one as it was, so why bother, really? Suddenly though…suddenly he was dwelling.

He'd had a string of offbeat, nowhere flings this past year. The two that stuck most in his mind being Erica, the manipulative husband killing matchmaker, and Lorelei, the manipulative friend of Red John. He didn't know which, truly, infuriated him more. One had fled, proving how easily he could be swayed by the mystique of a woman, the other had conned him into bed, and incited his rage and shock upon demanding the price of his freedom be the head of his truest friend.

And yet, it still seemed the one paying the highest price was Lisbon. The one loyal person that stood by him, pulled him from the precipice he lingered on whenever a nasty case reared its ugly head. Whenever Red John made his calling. As he had through someone that he thought trustworthy—someone that looked ever so much like someone he had wanted to be with him. Because that was the part Jane was dwelling on.

The fact that Red John knew how to get to him. Knew who, exactly, to use to get to him. Lorelei was, after all, a Theresa Lisbon look-a-like. It was so painfully obvious. He had not wanted to see it at first, didn't want to bring the comparison to light lest he feel the guilt again.

The same constant guilt. His wife was gone. She was never coming back. Even his revenge wouldn't bring her back. It would let him sleep better at night, maybe. But that guilt of loving another would linger forever.

He never had been one to target a specific brand of female. But he couldn't let the comparisons rest. His beautiful Angela had looked like a goddess—long golden hair that shimmered, striking pale blue eyes, almost angelic. Their daughter had seemed a carbon copy, a small cherub so full of life. And then they were gone. And his vision had suddenly changed.

She was nothing he wanted. Nothing he was to be attracted too. She was his means to an end, putting up with his irritable qualities and penchant for revenge. And then things had begun to change. After case pizza, silly conversations and magic tricks, walks on the beach. The trust in one another had grown. His vision of beauty, of attraction, had changed. His dreams were not filled with the blonde goddess, nor did he find their appeal alluring any longer. It had morphed into an image of a lively brunette with bright green eyes. And now, Red John knew it too.

In the midst of his fugue state, the woman he sought to flaunt to the CBI—to Lisbon—had been a brunette, unfortunately as smart as a door knob and a horrendous bout of laughter that she thought was somehow cute. There was Erica Flynn, her hair far too short to truly compare her as a Lisbon doppelganger, but it was more the charismatic nature, the challenge that she presented that could be the comparison. And now there was Lorelei—should that truly be the temptress' real name. Red John's purpose for sending her was as clear as glass; he knew Jane had changed.

Everything had. He would love his wife forever. He would be pained at the thought of removing a ring meant to represent eternity. And the line that always struck him during the ceremony, 'til death do you part, had always caused him ire. Did it mean in some cosmic way he was allowed to fall in love again? Or was it a confinement to be alone, living out his days until he could join his first love in this better place that so many believed in?

When he had hugged Lisbon earlier, in her office before their plan would be set into action, it had felt so real. It had been a long time since he'd felt that kind of love for anyone, let alone another woman. And he'd told her so.

She'd looked absolutely stunned. At the confession, or the fact that he said it as he pointed a gun full of blanks at her, he wasn't quite sure. What felt real, to Jane, was that he never wished to be in this position again—pointing a gun at his partner, his friend—even if it meant losing Red John in the shadows once more.

Patrick ruminated on this last thought trail. He would give up Red John for Theresa Lisbon. Hell, he already had.

XOX

Lisbon could still feel Jane's hand clenched in hers, hours later, the sand caked between his fingers and the cold metal band warming in her palm. She unknowingly clutched her right hand, as if letting go would let her lose that memory. Even now, interrogating Lorelei, it was in the forefront of her mind, second only to his oddly timed 'love you' confession. She couldn't even begin to tackle that moment.

It was temporarily shattered seconds later when Lorelei announced that she and Jane had been lovers in Vegas. And that stopped Lisbon cold. She felt stupid, pondering both the confession and how it affected him, considering she knew he still loved his wife, was very much dedicated to her and her alone.

To his credit, Jane did not deny the accusation. And Lisbon, to hers, knew Lorelei was trying to get a rise out of the not-so-beheaded agent.

Fifteen minutes later Lorelei clammed up, refusing to speak without her lawyer, and Jane knew when the lawyer came, Lorelei would never speak again. As with all Red John friends, once captured, they were good as martyred. He didn't even bother demanding a security detail be put on Lorelei. Her end was coming.

XOX

Theresa left early, not excusing herself, no goodbyes. She simply left. Her brain was on overdrive. Jane had slept with another woman. A woman that, without a doubt, very much looked like herself. She was not blind, and given Jane's surefire confession, was more confused than ever. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. She knew for a fact that Jane had barely touched a woman since his wife was murdered…so what made Lorelei different? Why hadn't he told her what happened? It wasn't like he very much minded others feelings. For that matter, why did he care that she cared? He'd practically run from the room when Lorelei outed him.

Sighing, she poured herself a cup of tea—not sure when she'd started to drink the beverage choice of the man she was currently going crazy over. But as she sat, she made a decision.

She was a smart, strong, independent woman. She could let this go. She would forget what he said to her. She would chalk it up to stress and a gun and the price on her head. Lisbon had no illusions.

He had not meant it.

XOX

He couldn't sleep.

Not that he ever did, but this was different. All the dwelling had made him sour, and no rest would come to him until he confronted it.

Which is how he wound up knocking on Lisbon's door at 2 a.m. He was about to give up when a bleary eyed, bed head Theresa finally opened her door.

"I hate you Jane. It's bad enough you bother me at work, but at home, when I'm sleeping? Really?"

She didn't get much farther before he was once again hugging her. Her hand still gripped the doorjamb and her brow knit in sleep caused confusion.

"And now we're back to hugging," she whispered lightly. She sighed heavily, as was her habit when it came to him. "Come in Jane."

She managed to detangle herself from him, leading him in by his hand and seating him on her couch.

"Okay Jane, out with it, what's wrong?"

His mouth opened as if to speak, closed, opened again, causing him to look like a fish. He seemed so lost, heartbroken, that she couldn't help but want to fix him.

"Jane, I'm here, talk to me," Lisbon pried lightly. He'd been idly staring at her array of family photos. Thinking back to the brother and niece that he'd met. Thinking how much they would miss their sister, their aunt.

"I fear I've put you in insurmountable danger, dear Theresa." She scoffed, but his eyes held no laughter, no light. He wasn't kidding.

"Jane that's silly. I carry a gun, I work for the CBI, I'm well trained in self defense…how are you putting me in danger?"

He grinned, but it was dark. "Because he knows how to get to me now."

She shook her head, still very much confused. "Jane I don't understand what you're getting at. Please, don't tell me you're going to fake another breakdown or leave to protect us again. It's stupid and it never works."

"No, I won't. No worries there. I will not be leaving anytime soon." He replied, easing her nerves and feeling the grip she still had on his arm loosening. She was always so worried for him. So worried he'd vanish, leave them all behind, forget they existed. "But, Theresa, you have to understand it's not the team I'm concerned about. It's you. I've put you in an awful place, a place I tried so terribly hard to keep you out of, and I failed. Red John, he sent Lorelei at me for a reason. You and I, we both know how he works. He will stop at nothing to take away everything I have, everything I want to protect, and now I'm afraid you're in the crossfire."

"How am I in the crossfire? Jane, he's not striking at me! He sent that woman to tempt you, sure, I get it, but why would he want to come at me?" she was angry and edgy and it was far too late [or early] for these sort of strange admissions.

"Because he knows what I want now. He tested me, and I failed that test because I could not give him what he wanted. For that, he'll strike at me again, and this time I can't lose. I can't afford to lose."

"And for the sake of all that's holy, Jane, what is it that you want?" she demanded exasperatedly.

"You." Patrick Jane swallowed hard, his confession rough but true, and full of undeniable fear. "I want you. And he knows that now. He knows I would do anything to keep you safe."

Her expression ranged in a spectrum of emotion. Confusion, awe, understanding, shock, fear, and finally, horror. It all made sense when you put it together. He sent Lorelei to play the acting Lisbon role, look like her, sympathize like her, but the seduction, the temptation was nothing like Theresa.

"Patrick…" she trailed off. There was hardly anything to say. How did one respond? Because he loved her, she was in danger. She probably always had been, but Red John was a true romantic. He'd waited for them to get closer. Maybe he'd seen this all along, or just hoped for an inkling of a possibility. "I have no words, not…not yet."

He nodded, dejected. "I'm not leaving you. Not now. You have a target on your back because in his mind I've replaced my wife with you."

"Have you, Jane?" her curious eyes held a thin veil of tears. "Because if Red John is coming after me, then I need to know that I'm not going to die just because _he_ thinks you have a crush on me."

"Theresa, I know you have no reason to trust me. I realize that. But what I said in your office…I meant that. I may manipulate you, leave out the whole truth…but rarely, Theresa, do I lie to you."

She stood then, a million scenarios flying through her mind. She wasn't safe, she never would be again. If he left, Red John would certainly take her to spite him, and if he stayed, at the very least they'd still be in each other's sights. He claimed Red John figured out that Jane loved her…and if a serial killer could make—or force—that connection, then she'd be damned if she didn't at least get to reap the benefits. After all, she'd loved him for a long time now.

She made her decision. A new one this time.

"Patrick," Lisbon whispered softly. He heard the change of tone, a small smile curled at the edges of his dimpled cheeks. He stood then, slowly, not wanting to startle her.

"Yes, dear Theresa."

She smiled in turn. Grasping his hand between hers, much in the way they had in the desert, this time for more than just comfort. "I think I love you too."

He leaned in conspiratorially, whispering in her ear, "I'm pretty sure I figured that out. After all, I am a fake psychic."

"Don't make me punch you in the nose Jane."

"Right, yes," he murmured, knowing that the petite brunette certainly packed a punch.

"Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you're going to kiss me anytime soon or are we just going to stand and stare at each other all night?"

He grinned, even in the knowledge that the mere fact of knowing her would potentially get her killed, he knew he couldn't stay away. He'd paid the price once before, and he'd be damned if he paid again. He would keep her safe, as she would keep him. If they were together, at least, they stood a chance. So he did as she asked.

He kissed her.

XOX

The click of a camera echoed in the empty house. The family that lived there was on vacation. No one would be the wiser.

Smiling darkly, the camera continued its relentless shutter.

They'd been waiting a long time for this. Yes, another chance.

His boss would certainly be quite pleased with this stunning new development.

Quite pleased, indeed.

_Lost your balance on a tightrope_

_Never too late to get it back…_

END.


End file.
